


Something Just Like This

by OTPAlchemist99



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Attempt at Humor, But imagine whoever you like, Comedy, Coming Out, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No underage here! Peter is twenty-two in this fic, Parent Tony Stark, Romance, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Smut, Superheroes, Tom Holland is my spiderman, Wade is a sweet baby angel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-10-27 23:12:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17776031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPAlchemist99/pseuds/OTPAlchemist99
Summary: Peter is alone in this world. Or at least, he tries to be. Its safer that way. After Aunt May and Gwen, he can't stand the idea of losing someone else. So he works and studies during the day while being Spider-Man at night. Its a solitary life...Enter Wade Winston Wilson and a boat load of trouble.





	1. I've Been Reading Books of Old

**Author's Note:**

> My first SpideyPool Fic! Yay!  
> I hope your guys enjoy! I had some much fun writing this scene.  
> White and Yellow give me life. <3  
> ( White *[ ]* and Yellow *{ }* )
> 
> Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day!

   “Listen fellas, I’m into bukakke as much as the next morally deviant guy. It’s just, when I fantasized about jacking off with a bunch of dudes, I didn’t imagine myself as the one getting jizzed on.” Wade says to the men surrounding him as he pulls on the handcuffs keeping his hands tied behind his back. Stereotypical bad guys in a stereotypical warehouse. Also, known as a typical Thursday for Deadpool, minus the furry porn.

   “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” The thug to his left asks with a sneer.

   “Not really, no.” Wade says blinking innocently.

   [It’s like they don’t know who we are.]

   {Which is just crazy. I mean, I can see how they wouldn’t know who you two are but I am simply a delight.}

   [You do realize you are just a voice in a mentally unstable mercenary’s head, right?]

   {How dare you! You take that back right now.}

   [You are an idiot.]

   {Yeah, well your mother was a hamster and your father smells of elderberries.}

   “Guys, guys… This really isn’t the time.” Deadpool mutters to the ranting Boxes.

   “What? You have somewhere you need to be?” One of the thugs asks incredulously.

   The merc perks up at the questions. “Now that you mention it, there is a five for twenty sale going on right now at Victoria Secret that-”

    _Smack_. Wade’s head snaps to the side as the butt of a pistol connects with his temple. Skin splits and blood warms Deadpool’s mask before the flesh starts to knit itself back together. The area tingling and burning as it regenerates itself.

   “Seriously, shut the fuck up. I’m tired of your bullshit.”

   Wade whips his head around. “Hey, I never joke about a lingerie sale.”

   {Cuz really, has this guy never had some nice silk and lace cradling his boys before? Pure heaven, and definitely not a joking matter.}

    _Amen to that._

   [You two are ridiculous. I can’t believe I am stuck in same cranium.]

   {You are full of shit if you say you don’t love it as well. Admit it.}

   [I will do no such thing. Now Wade, can we please get out of here? I assume you have a plan.]

   Wade rolls his eyes. _Dude, I know I’m no David Blaine but I am pretty sure a pair of handcuffs can’t hold me._

   At the admittance, White starts to vibrate with rage.

   [Then why have we just been sitting here!?]

_I don’t know… I guess I was hoping if I waited long enough I would finally get to fulfill my gang bang fantasy._

   {Oh! Oh! Let’s do that! Let’s do that! Cuz I wasn’t going to mention it, but these handcuffs and this warehouse is making me hard as a rock.}

   [That’s the reason we are still here!? Like they would even have sex with our ugly ass, consensually or not.]

   {True… We are ugly enough to make any beautiful, hard dick shrivel up like a raisin.}

   [Exactly. So we should just break out of here now and murder these guys while we are at it. There are better way we could be spending are day.]

   {Like shopping for panties!?}

   [...Maybe.]

   Wade chuckles to himself as he shifts in his chair, leveraging his arm and positioning his hand. It’s a bitch to dislocate a thumb but it’s the easiest way to get out of the cuffs. Besides it’s not like it won’t be healed in the time it takes him to shove the cartilage of each thug into their brains and retrieve Bea and Arthur. It would be easier if he had a distraction but…

   “Heads up!” A voice yells behind Wade, drawing the attention of the three thugs. In a streak of blue and red the thug to the left of Wade slams to the ground, unconscious with a trickle of blood dripping down his cheek form his broken nose. (God bless fanfiction synchronicity.) “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

   Wade and the two remaining thugs glance back and forth from the unconscious thug and the spandex clade hero perched on a shipping container. Jaws hanging loose and eyes bugged. Wade though staring for a completely different reason.

   “What the-”

   “Who the fuck are-”

   “SPIDEY!” Wade says squealing.

   [Wait, they don’t know who Spiderman is?]

   {Yeah! What the hell? Uncultured swine.}

   “Well one out of three isn’t bad. Unless you want to chime in here, Mr. Unconscious-Bad-Guy-Sir.” Spiderman says finger guns pointing expectantly are the unconscious thug on the ground before dropping them. “Yeah, didn’t think so. Oh well.”

   In a flurry of spandex, goo, and curses, Spiderman takes down the remaining two thugs and webs all three to the ground in what can only be the sexiest and sweatiest cocoon.

_Wonder if Spidey would ever web me and him together. Front to back. Get a bun and sausage sandwich going, if you know what I am saying. *Wink wink, suggestive elbow nudge.*_

   [Well, it’s not like you are being subtle.]

   Said hero of fantasies, finishes taking care of the bad guys and turns towards Wade. Which is kind of sad, because now he can’t stare at Spidey’s butt. But on the other hand, it does put something else completely interesting in his line of sight. Something that Wade openly stares at as well.

   “Do you always stare at a person's crouch when you meet them, or am I just a special case?” Spiderman asks, putting his hands on his hips. Which really does the opposite of stopping Wade from staring.

   “Oh you are definitely special, Baby Boy.” Wade says, dragging his gaze up and down Spidey’s toned body. 

   Spiderman crosses his arms across his chest. “What did you just call-“

   “But beside your bangin’ bod, you are also my favorite superhero.” Wade says with a grin. “Now help me out of these cuffs Spidey. I’m a damsel in distress and I need your big strong arms around me.”

   {Can he wrap his legs around us too? Preferably around our face.}

   Wade let’s out a groan. “Oh, I wish he would.”

   “Wish who would what?” Spiderman asks words sharp, confusion apparent.

   “It’s nothing.” Wade replies quickly, mentally cursing himself. 

   {No, no! Introduce us! I want to meet him.}

   [Yeah, introduces us.] White says, voice light and pleasant. [Wouldn’t it be great to let your hero know how crazy you are?]

_Fuck off. Both of you._

   “Okaaaaay.....” Spiderman says walking closer to where Wade is cuffed to the chair. “But before I let you go I have to ask you a few questions first.”

   [Spiderman is going to interrogate us?]

   {Spidey is going to interrogate us!!!!!}

   [I swear... you get excited about the most stupid things.]

   Wade keeps quiet because he really can’t disagree with Yellow. Being questioned by Spidey is definitely hot. Plus it would give him more time to spend with the hero. Nervous energy rockets through him at the thought. And okay… it kind of gives him a boner. A small one though! Not that he is small, just a small boner so he doesn’t freak Spidey out.

   Speaking of small, Spidey is definitely smaller in person. Like one of those Olympic Gymnast. All tight and compact with a firm-

   [Stop drooling and pay attention, dumb-fuck.]

   Smiling wide, (and trying to conceal his boner) Wade rocks the wooden chair he’s cuffed to on its back legs and balances there. “I’m an open book for my friendly neighborhood Spiderman. Ask away.”

  “Well. Don’t take this the wrong way or anything… You are clearly someone… But who are you exactly?” Spiderman asks, shifting his weight. It’s kind of cute really, seeing the hero nervous. Spiderman kind of acts like a…

   {uh, oh…}

   Wade gasps, eyes going wide.

   [HAHAHAHHA! And just when I thought you couldn’t creepier! Congrats, Wade.]

_Shut up, I could be wrong. He might be-_

   “What?” Spiderman asks, uncrossing his arms only to re-cross them and hunch over a little. “It’s an honest question. I get it asked all the time. I mean, I’m sorry I don’t know who you are but-”

   {Omg, he voice cracked. He is so cute!}

   [Do you hear yourself right now? His voice cracked. And look how small he is! He is clearly a teenager.]

   “HOW OLD ARE YOU!?” Wade asks, cutting the voices off.

   Spiderman freezes, body tensing into a string held taut. “I- what? Why do- It’s not like it…” Spiderman says, sputtering and twitching like a cat on catnip. Well, the twitching part at least, Wade still isn’t crazy enough to hear cats talking to him. Plus, he’s not Catwoman.

   But more concerning than his eventual one way ticket to Crazytown (way less fun than Bonetown), is the fact that the more Wade looks at the hero in front of him the more he is convinced Spiderman is just a kid.

_I mean a kid with a super advanced suit and superpowers but a kid none the less._

   [Which makes it so much creepier that you are into him. I guess not only are you a killer but you are also a pedophile too.]

   {But have you seen that body!? It so lean and tight but thicc in all the right places…} Yellow says with a whine. {Please say he’s at least eighteen. Then we at least have a chance.}

   [It doesn’t matter what age Spiderman is. Why the hell would he want to get with us? Also, can I just say, this is none of our business. Let’s break out of these cuffs and bounce.]

   {Spiderman is important to us, White! If he is a kid we have to stop him or help him or something!}

   “I agree. Spiderman is the coolest and best hero. We have to help him if we can.” Wade says, realizing seconds later he said it out loud. Wade glances at Spiderman to see the hero staring back, arms dangling at his side and body collapsed forward from its rigid stance.

   Spiderman looks away, finger tapping on his thigh. “Look, I’m not a kid or anything. I’m…I’m twenty-two so don’t worry about me. I’ve been doing this for five years now. I can take care of myself.”

   "So if you are twenty-two and started being Spiderman five years ago…” Wade says, cold dread sinking into his chest.

   {Quick! What’s twenty-two minus five?! Uh…. Fuck. Uh, twelve!?}

   “Yeah, I started as Spiderman when I was seventeen.” Spiderman says, crossing his arms again and looking away. It doesn’t take a genius to tell the hero is defensive about his age.

   {Shit, I was so close!}

   [No you weren’t.]

   Wade’s mouth pops open at younger man’s word. Spiderman became a hero and stopped the Vulture, Green Goblin and Hob Goblin {Why are there so many goblins in New York!?} when he was still in high school. All by himself… Spiderman is…

   “You’re amazing.” Wade says awe and bewilderment drenching his voice like syrup.

   Those words snap Spiderman’s gaze back to him. “You… really think so?”

   “Baby boy, I definitely know so! If I didn’t already think you were the best Superhero in the world before, I definitely would now! But, just for the record, I already did.”

   “Thank you.” Spiderman says, barely above a whisper. And, just because Wade is that good at reading masks, he can tell the hero is smiling. And doesn’t that just light a small explosive in his cold, mercenary heart. “Oh uh, I still don’t even know your name… Your hero name of course, not your real one.”

   “No worries, Baby Boy. Everyone basically already knows both. Infamously, of course. Name’s Wade Wilson, also known as Deadpool. Also also known as Merc with a Mouth and also, also, also known as Princess Sparkle-corn, but only in the Furry circuit.”

   “Right…”

   “I’d shake your hand but I am kind of still in this kinky bondage.” Wade says shrugging a pulled back shoulder for emphasis.

   “Oh shit.” Spiderman says, looking around rapidly. “Do you know where the keys are?”

   “Not a clue. But you know what, don’t worry about it.” Wade says. Shifting his left hand down and his right arm up, Wade rests the right hand on top the other and… _Pop_

   “There we go.” Wade says pulling his left hand from the cuff. He stands and rotates his shoulders, working the stiffness form his joints. Spiderman takes a step forward, looking from Wade’s right hand with the handcuff still around it to his slightly distorted left one.

   “Did…did you just break you thumb?” Spiderman asks voice low.

   “Huh? Oh, no I didn’t break it.” Wade says, holding up his hand. Spiderman sighs, relaxing slightly. “I dislocated it. There’s no way to break you thumb while they are behind your back.”

   “What?” Spiderman asks voice going high and breathy. “Why did you do that? I could have found the keys or called a lock smith or-”

   “Woah, Spidey. Calm down. It’s not a big deal. See?” Wade says before popping the joint back into place.

   “That doesn’t make it better, Wade!” Spiderman says, walking toward the merc and taking his hand. He flips it over to examine it, touching the thumb in gently prodding motions. “Does it hurt? It doesn’t feel swollen but you should probably put some ice on it just in case.”

Wade stares wide eyed at his hand in the younger heroes. Spidey's blue, gloved hand small and slender in comparison. 

   {Did we die and go to heaven?}

   [I doubt we would go to heaven even if we could die. Which we can’t]

   {But Spidey is touching us! This has to be heaven. I’ll be honest, I thought there would be Mexican food and orgies but, you know what, this is possibly better.}

   [You know the only reason he is touching us is because he doesn’t know about our healing factor, right? We can’t die. Why would a small dislocation bother us in the slightest? Wade, tell him so he will stop touching us.]

_Do I have to tell him? Maybe if I don’t he will kiss all my boo-boos.  I could even go to Dr. Spidey for all my prostate exams…_

   [Your normal ‘boo-boos’ are gunshot wounds and sliced off limps. I doubt it would be sanitary for him to kiss them.]

   Wade internally groans. _You’re not wrong._

   “Hey Spidey, as wonderful as it is that you are concerned and all, and as much as I would those hands to check me for injury in so many other places, I really am fine. In fact I can’t be killed. Besides being your normal everyday merc, I also have a healing fact that would make a cockroach jealous.” Wade explains gently extracting his hand from Spiderman’s before the other hero can. It’s not like the hero would touch him for any other reason than out of concern.

   “Oh. That’s good to know.” Spiderman says. Then, suddenly realizing he is in the personal space of a man six inches taller than him and with sixty pounds on him, he takes a couple steps back. “So, uhm, any idea why these guys kidnapped you?”

   Wade, heading towards the duffle bag the d-bags stuffed Bea and Arthur in, glances at said d-bags and shrugs. “Eh... probably has to do with me killing their leader. They seemed pretty pissed before they shot me with a tranquilizer strong enough to kill an elephant and then cuffed me to that chair. Too bad they were too late to save their boss.” Wade explains. “By the way, you’ll want to not go in that room back there. Looks like a person with Parkinson’s tried to paint the walls with spaghetti O’s. Hey, do you want to go get taco. I know a- oohfff.”

   Wade stumbles, barely catching himself before he kisses concrete. Picking himself back up, he looks down to see white webbing sticking one of his feet to the floor. Picking up Bea, Wade swiftly cut through the silk and looks at Spidey. 

   “You have to stay here and wait for the cops, Wade.” Spiderman says voice trying for stern but missing it by a mile. “You can’t just kill people.”

   “But Spidey...” Wade whines as he picks up Arthur so his can sling both katanas into their sheaths. “I do it for only the right reasons.”

   {You mean for money?}

   [For fun?]

   “All of the above. But I also only kill bad people. That man turned into soup in there,” Wade says point toward the back of the warehouse. “Sold children as prostitutes to the highest bidder. You can’t tell me he didn’t deserve what he got.”

   The arachnid hero shifts and looks away before turning back to Wade, squaring his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter.”

   In a flurry of web, Spiderman cocoons Deadpool to the floor. Picking up one of the thugs cellphones, he calls the police before turning back to Wade. 

   “It was nice meeting you, Deadpool. I hope we can meet under better circumstances next time.” Spiderman says solemnly before swinging up and out of the building. (Skyline. Typical...) 

   “And I hate to see you go but love to watch you leave!” Wade yells even though the hero is already gone.

   [Well that went horribly.]

   {What are you talking about?! This has been the best night ever! We got to meet Spidey, then he touched us and then cocooned us! We are going to have spank bank materials for years!}

   [God it must be nice to be an idiot. You are always so easily pleased. But if you haven’t notice, we are actually in a worse situation than before. Unless, of course, Wade can Houdini us out of this webbing somehow before the cops come. Doubtful.]

   “Ye of little faith, White. I’ve always got a plan. And in this case, I have something long and hard that will do just the trick.” Wade says twisting his wrist around to get at the zipper of his pants.

   [I swear to God, if you are talking about your dick I am going to sing ‘What’s New Pussycat’ for twelve hours straight.]

   “Calm down. I’m not talking about Little Wade, I’m talking about Little Wolverine here.” Wade says as he takes out the small pocket knife from where it’s stored in his crotch pocket. It’s really surprising how often it comes in handy.

   It takes only a couple minutes of the Boxes bickering and Wade cutting before he gets free.

   “Okay guys. Plan is chimichangas, masturbate, and the Golden Girls. Possibly all at once.” Wade says tucking Little Wolverine back into its place next to Little Wade.

   [What about those guys webbed up? Are we seriously just going to leave them alive?]

   {But Spidey would know it was us…} Yellow replies, voice etched with worry {He already didn’t seem too happy about the guy we made into Campbell’s soup.}

   “ _Campbell’s tomato soup, possibilities!_ ” Wade sings off key.

   [Who gives a fuck? Shoot these fuckers both in the head and let’s head home. Bea Arthur is waiting for us.]

   “Awh, you do care, White.”

   [Don’t act like more of an idiot that you actually are. It’s Bea Arthur we are talking about. Sassy, confident, beautiful…]

   {White and Dorothy sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-}

   [I’ll kill you, Yellow. Don’t you dare soil the respect and admiration I have for Dorothy.]

   “Oh, I’d totally fuck Dorothy. Bet she would be a pistol in bed.” Wade says. “Besides White, I doubt we have time to take care of our little love muffins here.” Basically on cue (because, come on, this is a fanfiction) the sounds of police sirens blares in the distance, just as Wade heads through a side door and up a fire escape.

   [Weakest excuse I’ve ever heard. A bullet to the head takes two seconds. Pop-pop-pop. Three lead presents to the face and we would be done.]

   {But Spidey would know!}

    “Gotta agree with Yellow here, White. Next time we meet Spidey, Jesus Bucky Barnes be willing-”

    [Pretty sure that’s not the Winter Soldier's first name.]

   “-I want to be webbed down for kinky, sexy, dirty reasons. Preferably in a situation including jell-o and a sombrero.”

   [I don’t even want to know…]


	2. The Legends and The Myths

Peter groans and rests his head on the counter, forehead landing in something sticky. _Gross._ Straightening, he rubs quickly at the tacky residue, squinting at the harsh fluorescent of the kitchen.

God, he is tired. The lights feel like daggers gouging out his eye. He just needs to rest his eyes for a minute…

   “Peter! You have a delivery!” Mr. Aziz yells making Peter jolt upright.

   “Coming!” Peter says from the back. Walking around to the front of the restaurant, Mr. Aziz stares, eyebrows pulled together, as Peter makes his way over to the delivery station.

  “You know Peter, you look like shit.” Mr. Aziz says as Peter loads up the boxes.

   “Thanks, Mr. Aziz. You always say the nicest things.” Peter says cracking a smile.

   Mr. Aziz chuckles. “You know what I mean.” He says with a wave of his hand. “If you need a day or two off just tell me. You work too much.”

   Peter’s smile fades slightly. Between working at Stark Industries, at Joe’s Pizza and doing Patrol at night as Spiderman, Peter was lucky to get four hours of sleep.

“You have no idea.” He says, zipping up the pizza carrier and slinging it onto his back. “But it’s not a problem, I need the money anyways. Don’t worry about it.”

   “Whatever you say, Peter. By the way, that’s your last delivery for the night. It’s not far from your neighborhood either. You can go home from after. I’ll see you Monday.” Mr. Aziz says as Peter heads out.

   “Sounds good. See you then!” Peter says pushing open the door, the bell jingling his departure.

   The smell of exhaust and warm night air hits Peter as soon as he walks outside, shedding some of his grogginess. He rolls his shoulders and heads in the direction of his delivery, weaving through allies and people.

He slows as shops and stores fade away to apartments and flats, pulls out his phone. Peter had called and left Mr. Stark a message yesterday after his run in with Deadpool. He’s hopeful to at least have a voicemail from Ironman but when Peter unlocks the phone, the screen is blank.

Curiosity eats at him. The red and black mercenary screamed dangerous to Peter when he first met him. Large and heavily armed with swords, knives and guns that definitely weren’t meant for tickling or water fights, Wade basically wore a neon flashing sign with the word ‘dangerous’ on it. If only he Spidey–senses felt the same way. Because even after the man had TWO FUCKING KATANAS there wasn’t a single tingle of warning radiating from the merc.

Peter tosses the phone between his hands in contemplation. He is tempted to call again, a small part of his brain nagging at him to get information on Deadpool. Another part of him, a stronger part of him, forbids him from bothering Mr. Stark.

Last night he had been too hopped up on a successful, though really weird, job well done to think clearly when he called. Only half a minute after dialing though did Peter remember that Mr. Stark was away on an important trip to Wakanda and would most likely be too busy to play being his Oracle. So when he got Stark’s voicemail, he didn’t leave one. Hoping he would think Peter accidentally dialed him if he didn’t.

So yeah, he definitely wasn’t going to call again unless it was life or death. And the situation with Deadpool is definitely not life or death. He can figure this out on his own.

   He can always interrogate some thug or robber the next time he has them tied up, see if any of them have information on Deadpool. Though… he really hasn’t worked on the intimidate mode at all with Karen, not since the failed attempt with Aaron Davis that one time. Practice makes perfect though and he could always…

   Peter almost jumps on the alley wall next to him at the sound of his phone ringing, nearly throwing the damn thing in the process. As is, he just fumbles with it before finally being able to grab it and answer.

   “Uh, Hello?”

   “Don’t sound thrilled to hear from me or anything.” Tony says with a chuckle.

   “Mr. Stark! Oh yeah, sorry. I was kind of lost in thought.”

   “No worries. Just let out from a conference, I’m actually using you so I don’t have to make boring, small talk with more politicians and diplomats. So, what is it, kid? I assume you called me for a reason. There’s nothing wrong at Stark Tower, is there?”

“Oh, no! It’s just… Uh, I need your advice on something. Or, you know, someone.” Peter says fidgeting. He really isn’t sure how to broach the topic.

   “Hmmm, advice on someone? Is there a special lady that’s caught your interest, Parker?” Tony asks, voice laced with a grin.

   “It’s not a girl.” Peter replies, rolling his eyes.

There is a pause. “Guy then. That’s fine.” Tony says slowly. “It’s all fine. I mean, I can’t give much advice there since I’ve never dated a guy before but-”

Peter flushes. “No! It’s not like that!” Peter says, mind flashing back to Wade. Sure the guy had teased Spider-Man but it really just seemed like the guys personality, definitely not flirting. “I just met a mutant the other day and didn’t know it you had any information on him.”

“If you say so... Doesn’t seem as much fun but sure, shoot. I’ll have Friday look them up if I don’t know them. Now who did you run into?” Tony asks, the chatter of people disappearing at the sound of a door clicking closed. 

Peter switches the phone to his other hand, trying for casual as he looks around to make sure he is alone. “Have you heard of a guy named Wade Wilson? Calls himself Deadpool.”

The line gets quiet, dead air in one ear and the sound of car horns and night life chattering in the other. Peter pulls the phone from his ear to make sure the call didn’t dropped only to see Tony’s contact picture show up with the slowly ticking by seconds of the call under it.

“Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter asks tentatively.

“Of course you ran into the world’s best mercenary. Why should I be surprised?” Tony says, words sharp. “Please tell me you at least didn’t talk to him. You just saw him on patrol, right?”

“Uh...”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Tony says. Peter can hear the strain in his voice. “Did you invite him over for teas as well?”

Peter’s hackle rises. “What was I supposed to do? He was tied to a chair with bad guys beating him up. I couldn’t just leave him there!”

Tony scoffs. “Only you would save a contract killer like he’s a damsel in distress.”

Peter eyes widen before chuckling in surprise. “I think he actually called himself that.”

Tony laughs. “Sounds about right. Far from the truth, but it definitely sounds like something he would say. He is definitely a few fries short of a happy meal, if you know what I mean.”

“He was definitely… eccentric. Nice though.”

“Not the words I would use but whatever. At least you guys met on good terms. You’re his hero now.” Tony teases.

Peter’s stomach drops.  “Good terms… Right.”

“What did you do, Peter?” Tony says with a sigh. The words are said lightly, almost like a joke, but they come out too strained. Too exasperated. As if this is his fault. Peter swallows, chest aching and flush with fresh embarrassment.

“In my defense, it was right after he told me he turned a guy into spaghetti o’s, but I might have... webbed him to the ground and called the police.” Peter says cringing. Yeah, sounds way worse now that he has said it out loud.

Tony groans. “You are a handful, you know that?”

Peter’s mouth sours, jaw clenching. Did Mr. Stark think he expected him to clean up his mess? “You know I called you as a fellow hero wanting information.” Peter says words flat and stiff. “Sorry to burden you but I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t need Tony’s help. He didn’t need anyone’s help…

“Listen kid, I am just trying to look after you. Since your Aunt May-” Tony starts, but Peter is far from willing or wanting to hear the end of that sentence.

“I’m fucking fine, Mr. Stark. Forget about it.” Peter ends the call and shuts off his phone fast, body thrumming. Fucking Tony… He can be so infuriating sometimes. Peter asks a simple question, just wanting information, and then Tony acts as though he is in over his head. Calling him a kid and acting like he is incompetent. Or Inconveniencing him, even though he didn’t even ask Tony to do anything. Peter is fine by himself.

He’s better off by himself.

_But beside your bangin’ bod, you are also my favorite superhero._

Deadpool’s words creep into his mind making his flush, easing the empty ache that has formed in his chest. The merc had also said he was amazing (not to mention the flirtatious remarks Peter refuses to think about).

God, when was the last time someone appreciated what he did? It feels like never. All Peter sees are tabloids from the Daily Bulge talking about Spider-Man like he is an actual bug (spider) infestation in New York, one that needs to be exterminated. On top of that, Tony is always underwhelmed about everything he does. Just keeps pushing him. Whether it’s as Spider-Man, or in school, or when they are in labs… It’s exhausting.

And really, could Wade be as bad as Tony says if he appreciates what Spider-Man does for New York?

Peter shakes his head, eyes heavy. He is so tired and there is no sense worrying about it. He’ll just stay away from the merc for the time being.

Right now, he needs to just deliver this pizza so he can go home. If he hurries he might be able to get a nap in before patrol tonight.

Walking faster, it takes only a couple more minutes for Peter to reach his destination. Looking at the address on his delivery information, just to double check he’s at the right place, Peter frowns. He’s in front of a faded, concrete apartment building, windows barred so they can’t be broken into. Needless to say, it’s a decrepit area. Sadly it is his delivery location and of course where the apartment number should be it just says ‘basement’.

Which could not be creepier.

Shrugging it off, Peter heads inside the building. It’s not like there is anything or anyone in this neighborhood that could really hurt him. Plus, despite its debilitating appearance, he isn’t getting any ‘spidey-vibes’ warning him away from it.

Unfortunately, after a couple minutes of searching, he is no closer to delivering the pizza, being unable to find any level lower than one. It’s a standard six story building. There isn’t even a hidden stairwell going down, he felt the walls just to be sure (despite feeling stupid doing so).

Walking back outside, he looks around.

All the street lights are out, most likely shot out. Luckily for him, and because of his amazing eye sight, Peter spots a stairwell on the side of the building blanketed in shadow. The steps at steep and look to be held together more by the cobwebs on them than by anything else.

Reaching the bottom of them in one piece, a sturdy metal plated door greets him with a colorfully green doormat under it. Bending over to look at it, he recognizes it immediately as one of those wiener dog doormats. Only this one, instead of the traditional wiener dog on it, has a handcrafted, realistic looking dick patched over the dog’s body. The resulting image is a dick, looking like it has grown legs, with the phrase ‘the grass is greener under my wiener’ above it.

Peter snorts, a smile cracking his irritated mood, and knocks.

There is a crash and a curse behind the door followed by a bang and a shout. He is about to knock again when the door is ripped open, and all one hundred and ninety pounds of mercenary comes into view.

Peter freezes, brown eyes going wide as Wade stand in the doorway staring back at him in full suit. Was the pizza delivery a trap? Did Deadpool somehow find out his identity and plan this as a way to catch him off guard and get revenge. Deadpool didn’t seem mad when he left the other night but Tony also said Wade wasn’t completely stable so maybe-

Looking down, Peter frowns.

Okay… not full suit. The mercenary is actually dressed more in cotton than leather and polyester, only wearing the gloves and mask from his suit, the rest traded in for a hoodie and sweatpants. So… not a trap? Unless it’s more elaborate than just luring Peter to his house. Which wouldn’t make sense considering the mask ruins the element of surprise.

“Is Angelos starting to send sexy telegrams with their pizza’s now, cuz the last delivery boy didn’t look half as good as you do.” Wade says, leaning a shoulder on the door frame. “Yellow, I doubt they send strippers with their pizzas. You’re not a stripper right?”

“What?” Okay, so not a trap. Wade clearly doesn’t know who he is. This is just fate being a weird, cruel mistress.

“Good looking but slow. Got it.” Wade says, taking the pizza out of his hands and placing a fifty their instead.

Peter scowls. “Hey! I’m going to school for bio-chemistry. I’m not slow.” Peter says, hand closing around the bill. He looks at the receipt and holds the money back out to the merc. “Also, you already paid.”

Wade whistles. “Damn, okay. Hot and smart. Noted.” Wade winks. (Seriously, how does he do that with the mask?) “Oh, and that’s your tip.”

Peter mouth pops open. ”That’s way too much! Your order didn’t even cost fifty.”

“Then how about its tip and charge for the nice view.” Wade says, lecherously sliding him eyes up and down his body.

Peter blinks.

And like a switch, his frontal lobe shuts off. All high-level brain functions besides “Fuck this” go out of his mind on a long vacation. Cuz’ Fuck Tony and especially, Fuck Wade.

Who complements someone, then insinuating they are dumb and treats them like a-a street walker!?

He’s done. Soooooooo Done. With a capital ‘D’ and everything. He’s too tired to deal with this. So in a fluid movement, Peter flicks the wadded up fifty at Wade’s face, snatches the pizza from his hands and turns on his heel and walks away.

Silences echoes on brick and concrete for barely a minute before Peter hears Deadpool respond with a bewildered ‘but that’s my pizza’. Warm satisfaction spreads across Peter’s chest, burning like a living thing. Surprisingly, he doesn’t hear footsteps follow.

Only after he is back at his apartment, tucking into his stolen pizza, does the reality of what he’s done hit him.

Because, not only did he screw Deadpool, deadliest mercenary in the world, over as Spider-Man, he’s also done it as Peter Parker as well.

The warm, cheesy pizza in his mouth turns into a gooey cardboard as dread pours down his back. He swallows, the bite landing heavy in his stomach.

It’s not fair. He shouldn’t have to worry about a crazed mercenary trying to kill him. But lucky him, Peter gets to add that to the pile of work and obligations he has in his stress filled life. Trapped under the weight of it all. Alone.

That single word rings heavy and hollow in his chest. A weight made of guilt cocooned in hopelessness. Bitter memories trapping him in a loop of self-hatred and regret.

Peter tosses the barely touched slice of pizza back in its box and flops back on the couch. He half doesn’t want to go out on patrol tonight, unable to stand the thought of putting on the suit and pretending to have his shit together. That’s all he ever does as Spider-Man or as Peter.

Pretend to be okay. Pretend to be confident. Pretend to be a hero.

He doesn’t feel like a hero. He doesn’t feel a whole lot of anything anymore. Just tired.

So, so tired…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you guys liked it.  
> I plan to post a chapter once a week.  
> So I'll see you guys next Wednesday!
> 
> XOXO


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